Wings of Crimson
by IndianSummer
Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk’s life has spiraled out of control, and she’s lost all that’s important to her. She’s found comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the one that got away comes back?
1. Prologue

Title: Wings of Crimson  
Author: Summer [Indian Summer]  
Date Published: 07.18.2004  
Rating: PG-13, for now  
Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk's soul is darker than it was at fifteen. Her life has spiraled out of control, and she's lost all that's important to her. Her daughter, her boyfriend, her father. She's been looking for comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the man she can't forget comes back?  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "Joan of Arcadia" or the words of Ovid.  
Author's Note: Grace's present relationship may be a little hard for some of you to grasp, but eventually it will be sorted out. I promise. Please review.  
Prologue

* * *

"The cause is hidden. The effect is visible to all."  
-Ovid

* * *

As she sleeps, he studies her. Her shoulder-length hair, a dark brown, so different than it was years before. Her relaxed face, peaceful in sleep. Her legs, bronze and shapely, with a tiny crimson and blue tattoo on her ankle. This is where he pauses. He knows it well; without even looking he can trace the design, recreate it. It's a tiny butterfly, its wings outstretched, its body, where crimson met blue, violet.

Each time he sees it he feels a pang of something, searing at his heart. It's not simply jealousy, but he'd be lying if he said there was none.

They'd only been together a few weeks when she told him the story behind it, how the blue symbolized her ex, the crimson herself. The violet, she'd whispered, running a finger over the tattoo's middle, was their child.

He looks at her now, trying to remember what she'd been like when the child was born. They'd had a very different relationship then, one where they barely acknowledged each other's existence. She'd been younger, he thought, and more optimistic.

As he runs his fingers through her dark hair, he recognizes the strangeness behind this thought. She'd never been very optimistic, but back then, she'd at least had a fighting spirit, the idea she could correct the world's problems, if she only pushed herself that _little bit _harder, for a _tiny bit _longer.

She'd called her daughter Zara. She brushed him off whenever he asked about the name, telling him it was special to her. He doesn't dare tell her he knows the meaning behind the name, that he always has.

She opens her eyes, now a dull gray, and he remembers the days they were so vivid and full of life, the days before she lost her daughter.

.

.

They've never had a normal relationship, so he isn't surprised when she sits up, pulling the sheet with her. He isn't surprised that she doesn't smile, that she doesn't say anything.

He watches her with wonder as she dresses, admiring her petite body. She pulls her 'Free Tibet' T-shirt over her breasts, braless. There's something symbolic here, he recognizes, as she slips into her black pants, something free. Because even after everything she has been through, there's still a freedom in her spirit, something that can't be suppressed.

She offers him her trademark smirk as she plucks her car keys from his nightstand, and he reaches out and grabs her hand, his eyes silently pleading with her to stay.

She shakes her head sadly, not breaking eye contact. "Gavin…" she murmurs, her eyes understanding.

He watches her as she grows uncomfortable, as the fight-or-flight instinct he knows so well from her teenage years kicks in. He drops her hand and watches as she flees, his apartment door slamming behind her.

And a thought occurs to him.

At twenty-five, Grace Polk is still the scared fifteen year old she likes to pretend never existed.

.

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	2. All The Working Girls

Title: Wings of Crimson

Author: Summer [Indian Summer]

Date Published: 08.17.2004

Rating: PG-13, for now

Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk's soul is darker than it was at fifteen. Her life has spiraled out of control, and she's lost all that's important to her. Her daughter, her boyfriend, her father. She's been looking for comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the man she can't forget comes back?

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "Joan of Arcadia." Credit for the chapter title is the Pernice Brothers' "Working Girls."

Author's Note: This chapter seems to be mostly filler at first glance, but it provides a little background information.  
.  
.

Since her return to Arcadia, Grace had been working at a local coffeehouse called Java Script. In recent years, the coffeehouse had turned over such a profit that its owner, Holly Hidalgo, had added on a computer café, explaining it added yet another interpretation of the coffeehouse's name.

Aside from its computer café, Java Script offered more than 200 kinds of coffee, live bands, and poetry readings.

It was set off of Warner Road right outside of the business district of Arcadia, making it a prime location for old and young alike. It attracted a wide crowd, everyone from poets and musicians to computer junkies or retirees.

So at noon the place was often crowded, and today was no exception.

"Would it be weird for a coffeehouse to require reservations?" Grace asked Holly sarcastically after she'd seated the last table. "Because we have probably 15 more people in line and no available seats."

Holly swore under her breath, twisting a strand of her blonde hair around on her finger. "Go get Jason. Tell him his break's over, whether he likes it or not."

Grace nodded, disappearing into the backroom.

Jason Roberts was a grad student who had started working part time at Java Script nearly a year ago. Unfortunately, his family had enough money that they called working '_character building.'_ When Grace swung open the door, she wasn't surprised to see him lounging on the couch watching porn. "Hey, Jase, get your ass back to work. We've got a line out there. And can you stop bringing that crap to work?"

Jason raised an eyebrow, not attempting to move. "If you wanna make your own movie with me, sure."

Grace rolled her eyes, grabbed the remote from the table and switched off the television. "Come on."

"Tell Holly I'll be out in…" he started, pausing to check his watch, "Eight minutes. When my break's over."

"Not gonna work," Grace responded, "Because you know I could have Holly fire your ass if I told her what you did the other night in the bathroom and exactly _why _Joanna Reynolds is a regular."

Jason barely glanced up. "You can't do that," he said lazily.

"Why not?" Grace asked, her stomach sinking.

"Because," he said, raising his eyes to meet hers, "I know your secret."

Grace laughed, sure he was bluffing. "And what secret is that, exactly?"

Jason smirked. "That you, Gracie dear, were once married to one Mr. Luke Girardi."

.

.  
"She's making you look bad, Luke. You have to explain to her that her being late reflects badly on all of us."

Luke looked over at his girlfriend of four years. "Don't worry about it, Aura. Joan's only fifteen minutes late. And it doesn't look like Roger's on a tight schedule or anything," he said, gesturing to the open cockpit door.

Aurora Lynn followed his gaze to their pilot, who was doing a crossword puzzle. "Fine. But tell her that in the future-"

Luke nodded. "Okay. I will." He paused, searching for something to change the topic to. "Where are you going after you leave Arcadia again?"

Aurora smiled. "Milan. I booked a cover, remember?"

"Right."

Aurora pouted, leaning toward him. "Are you going to miss me?"

"Of course," Luke smiled. "I still don't understand why you're coming to Arcadia with me. You're going to be bored. It's not like LA, Aura."

"It's your home, Luke. I want to see where you grew up. And hear what you were like before you became who you are today," Aurora sighed.

Luke took her hand in his. "I can tell you that, Aurora. I can tell you that I was a nerd who had like, two friends in Arcadia. And that my high school girlfriend didn't _play_ with Barbie dolls when she was little- she hung them. And that when she got pregnant we promised we'd make it work, even when Arcadia turned against us. But that didn't happen. And that's all there is in Arcadia."

Aurora tilted her head to the side, but before she could speak Joan rushed in, towing a young blonde girl in her wake.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. I was talking on the phone to Greg and then there were reporters and Greg heard them and…" Joan trailed off, glancing at Luke. "Well, you know how he feels about that."

"Yes," Luke said tersely. He and Joan's boyfriend, Gregory Bennett, did not get along at all. "What did the reporters want?"

Joan shrugged, turning toward the little girl. "Come sit with Aunty Joan. We can play spit on the way to Arcadia." She looked back at Luke, a huge grin spreading across her face. "I can't wait to go home."

Luke smiled, but his gaze was on Aurora. And how every time someone mentioned Arcadia, she tensed.

.

.  
High schools were very gossipy places and the faculty room at Arcadia High was no exception. Generally, Gavin Price tried to ignore the rumors that spread like wildfire around the table as the staff ate lunch. He'd sit in a corner with his newspaper and just imagine he was elsewhere.

Today he sat in his corner with a newspaper, but he could not seem to focus his eyes on it. Instead, he found himself listening to every word out of the teachers' mouths as they whispered back and forth about the whereabouts of Helen Girardi.

"I heard she's having an affair."

"No! Helen told Lara that she was picking her son up at the airport."

Mrs. Lishack leaned forward. "Which son? Did she say? I'd love to see Luke again. It's such a great thing when one of our own makes such a lasting contribution to science."

"She didn't say. But wouldn't his return home have been on the news today? Maybe it's Kevin."

"I don't know…"

"What did Luke do again?"

Mrs. Lishack looked aghast by the ignorance of her peers. "Luke cured the common cold! He made a substance called galvinose in the lab, and when it's mixed with cedar oils, it's a cure."

"Well, if it is Luke, why do you think he's coming home? Will that girlfriend of his be with him? That model? What's her name?"

"Starts with an A. Audrey? Ariel? Annie?"

"Aurora, I think."

Mrs. Lishack was quiet for a minute, and Gavin was sure she was thinking the same thing as him. "Do you think Luke will be coming home with anyone else?" she asked, her words ringing in his ears, even long after the staff's shrugs.

.

.  
Luke had told his mother he would meet her in Baggage Claim, but getting Joan there had proved to be a problem.

"C'mon, Luke, just let me watch it for a minute. I'll meet you there," Joan said, her eyes focused on an airport television.

"Joan, you're the surprise. Mom doesn't know you're coming home," he stated.

Joan frowned. "But I want to watch this. It's about you-"

Luke frowned, turning his attention to the television.

"Luke Girardi has returned to his hometown of Arcadia, Maryland. In his company are two women and a little girl. There have been no identifications made on any of his travel companions, but among them is likely Aurora Lynn, his model girlfriend of more than four years. There's a lot of speculation that he has taken Miss Lynn home to meet his family before they marry-" a reporter was saying.

"Oh, come on, Joan, it's all crap. You know that. I'm not even engaged-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. _Thank God._"

Luke rolled his eyes. "Be nice to her. Aurora has nothing against you. You shouldn't-"

"Luke…"

"Seriously, Joan."

Joan sighed. "You can do whatever the hell you want with Aurora. But Grace is- _was-_ my friend. I'm not just going to jump on the 'love-Aurora' bandwagon."

Luke winced at the mention of his ex. "Joan, my relationship with Aurora has nothing to do with Grace."

Joan nodded, her gaze following Aurora and the little girl, who had walked ahead. "Maybe it should."

.

.  
By mid-afternoon, the crowd in Java Script had died down slightly. Grace was still kept busy, though, since Holly had decided to take her break and Jason had worked a total of twenty minutes the whole day.

"Hey, Grace?" Holly called from the backroom.

Grace jumped at the sound of Holly's voice, spilling coffee on her pants. "Yeah?"

"Uh, you might want to see this."

Grace frowned. "Can't it wait? I still have three orders to fill…"

"Trust me, this is more important. I can control the masses for a few minutes," Holly said as she reentered the main room. "Go watch the news."

"What? Why?"

"Ergh, just go."

Confused, Grace went into the backroom. Jason was still on the couch, but now he was leaning toward the television with interest. He pointed at it when Grace entered the room. "Looks like loverboy's coming home, huh?"

Grace's eyes widened as a picture of Luke filled the screen. "What's going on?"

Jason sat up. "Luke and his girlfriend are in Arcadia."

As Jason spoke, the image on the television changed to one of Luke and Aurora, all smiles with their arms wrapped around each other.

"Apparently he's doing the meet the parents thing with her. You know, before they get married," Jason said, a twinkle in his eye.

Grace glared at him, irritated by how amusing Jason seemed to find this. "Well, that should be interesting to see."

Jason frowned. "Why?"

Grace raised an eyebrow, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off. "Because I'm still married to him," she said, turning on her heel and walking out of the room, leaving a very stunned Jason behind.  
.  
.


	3. Strange Condition

Title: Wings of Crimson

Author: Summer Indian Summer

Date Published: 09.03.2004

Rating: PG-13, for now

Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk's soul is darker than it was at fifteen. Her life has spiraled out of control, and she's lost all that's important to her. Her daughter, her boyfriend, her father. She's been looking for comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the man she can't forget comes back?

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "Joan of Arcadia." Credit for the chapter title is Pete Yorn's "Strange Condition."  
.  
.

* * *

Read me the letter, baby / Do not leave out the words / Stories and cigarettes ruined lives of lesser girls / And I wanna know / 'Cause I want you to know

* * *

.  
.

There was something oddly relaxing about Java Script at night. It was Grace's favorite time of night, just twenty minutes before closing, when everything died down and there were few enough people to actually hear the music Holly had left playing in the background.

Tonight it was Pete Yorn, someone Grace wouldn't have been caught dead listening to in high school. Now, though, with her aching feet and a few more years of life behind her, Grace just found it soothing. She'd even caught herself singing along to "Strange Condition" as she cleared a table.

She'd agreed to close for Holly tonight, partly because she had nothing better to do, partly because Holly did, partly because she'd rather mop a floor and clear tables than be left alone with her thoughts.

She glanced toward the table where three teens sat with their chemistry books open, the only stragglers, and she saw the teenage versions of herself, Joan, and Adam in their places. It had been a long time. She idly wondered if Joan would be returning to Arcadia with Luke, but it didn't really matter. She wasn't part of that circle anymore.

Mugs clinked together in her hand as she carried them across the room, seeming much louder than they were in the quiet. She left them in the back area for the dishwasher to take care of when he arrived tomorrow morning and made her way out toward the front to give the kids a warning she'd be closing soon.

"Hey," the guy said as she approached, his eyes working over her body with all the cockiness of the average sixteen year old boy, "Do you know the chemical equation for a fire?"

She raised an eyebrow, gathering from his smile it wasn't a real question. He sat with two girls, a blonde and a brunette, both of whom were shooting him disgusted looks. As pickup lines went it was pretty feeble. "Wood doesn't actually burn," she responded, coming to a stop next to their table. "I have to close in fifteen minutes, guys."

The blonde girl nodded, but her eyes were defiant. "And if we aren't ready to go?"

"Then I find another way to get you out," Grace responded coolly, her eyes on the Chemistry books. "Do you guys go to Arcadia High?"

The dark-haired girl, who until now hadn't even looked at Grace, nodded. "We have Ms. Lishack. Do you know her?"

Grace smiled, remembering the antics of her oversexed high school science teacher. "I had her for both Chem and Physics."

"I'm sorry," the guy said, that overconfident smile still on his lips.

Grace shook her head. "She's a good teacher."

"She's a _conceited _teacher," the first girl chimed in, rolling her eyes, "Always all 'I-taught-the-smartest-man-in-the-world.' Like anyone could ever forget it."

Grace shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the clock on the wall. Thirteen more minutes.  
.  
.

"Ah! Ah! Coffee! Food! They must have food! And I'll be able to pee," was the cry from the backseat as a coffeehouse appeared further up the road.

Toning out Joan's constant outcries as they drove through Arcadia had become more difficult for Luke with every moment that passed.

In the passenger's seat, Aurora was squirming next to him uncomfortably, not used to cars with less leg room than a limousine. At Joan's words she turned around to glare at the other woman, her eyes narrowing into thin little slits. "Haven't you ever learned anything about decorum? And really, darling, you really should lay off the coffee and donuts. It's making you a bit thick around the middle."

Joan, less mature than the eight-year-old sleeping next to her, stuck out her tongue at Aurora. "Well, _darling,_ at least my waist is the only thing that's _thick._" She tapped her head pointedly.

With a dramatic sigh and a roll of her eyes, Aurora turned back around, letting her gaze fall back to the long stretch of road ahead of them. "I suppose I could go for a water," she murmured, looking at a small building ahead.

Luke braked suddenly, about to pass it, and turned quickly into the parking lot.

"Directionals, Luke," Joan chided lightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Do you want your daughter taking cues from _your _driving?"

Luke frowned, glancing in the rearview mirror at the small blonde girl, her head lowered in sleep. "She isn't even awake, Joan. And even if she were, she's barely eight. And hopefully she'll learn to drive with the help of Garrett, who does it _professionally._"

"Your chauffeur can't teach her. Doesn't a family member have to-"

Luke sighed, navigating the rental car into a parking spot and putting the car in park. "Didn't you just say you were starving?" he asked, cutting her off.

Joan, as if she had suddenly remembered where she was, swung open the back door and jumped from the car, slamming the door after her. Aurora followed slowly, her disgust at Joan's childish enthusiasm evident on her face.

Luke, having enough experience to know they'd spend the next couple minutes arguing back and forth, watched them until they entered the coffeehouse before getting out of the car himself. He opened the back door as quietly as he could, which wasn't really necessary given that he had to wake the girl up. He leaned over her sleeping form and nudged her gently, his hand resting on her shoulder.

Always a light sleeper, she opened her eyes and yawned, casting him a look that let him know she didn't appreciate being awoken.

Luke smiled at her, pulling lightly on a blonde curl. "We're stopping here to eat, Zara. Come on out and I'll buy you something."

She smiled slightly, just enough to let him see the gap where her one of her teeth had fallen out just a few days before. "Will you buy me a coffee, Daddy?" she asked, the corners of her lips turning downward in a pout, "If you expect me to stay awake, I'm going to need something with caffeine."

"So have a chocolate bar," he said, helping her out of the car.

She looked around as she slipped from the car, her gaze stopping on a wooden sign next to the coffeehouse which read '_Welcome to Java Script' _in large golden block lettering. She bit her lip and glanced up at her father. "What's Java Script?"

Luke, not having noticed the sign before, laughed. "A computer term, honey," he answered simply, taking her hand in his, trying to ignore the twinge that always accompanied memories of his old life.

Zara smiled up at him. "You know everything," she said, her eyes gleaming with pride.

Luke returned the smile weakly. "Not everything," he murmured as they walked toward the coffeehouse, his mind working over all the questions he'd never found the answers to.

And at the top of the list was the one nagging thought that haunted him even in his sleep. How could he have been such a horrible person his own wife had left him?  
.  
.

It was like he'd conjured her. Luke stood frozen in the coffeehouse door, his eyes burning into the back of her head.

He hadn't seen her face yet, and her hair was no longer the disheveled blonde he remembered, but he knew it was her, the same way he knew where his hand was, even in the pitch black. Even after all the time that had gone by, it was as if she were still a part of him.

His mouth was still half open when she turned around.

"Could you please close the door? The mosquitoes are-" The words died on her lips as she realized who it was. "They're bad at this time of year," she said, trying to recover but failing miserably.

He glanced over at Joan and Aurora, who'd stopped fighting long enough to watch this display. Aurora had crossed her arms over her waist, utterly confused, and Joan, who hadn't recognized the waitress on first glance, was staring at her, her eyes wide. Luke knew she was recreating her- picturing her hair shorter, as the dirty blonde she'd recognize, replacing the purple _Java Script _T-shirt and white shorts with the more familiar bondage pants and dark shirts.

Joan, of course, was the first to speak. "Grace!" she cried, walking over and instinctively throwing her arms around her.

Aurora's eyes widened at the greeting and Luke realized she'd connected the dots. Before he could say anything, he felt a tug on his hand and remembered Zara's presence.

He looked back over at Grace and realized that she hadn't been looking at him at all, but at the tiny little girl. And as he smiled tightly, he wondered why that hurt so much.  
.  
.

This could _not _be happening. She only had thirteen minutes left before closing, and if those kids hadn't still been in here, she probably would've been on her way home now.

Grace realized that in her shock she'd turned away from her customers, and she looked over at them nervously. The two girls were staring at Luke as if he were some movie star, and the guy's eyes had fallen on the shapely blonde leaning against the counter that she'd recognized to be Aurora Lynn.

Grace cleared her throat, her eyes drifting back to the young girl holding Luke's hand. She was nothing like Grace pictured her, frozen at twenty-two months in her mind, with chubby pink cheeks and wide blue eyes. Her blonde hair held loose curls, her eyes still blue and even brighter than she remembered. But the girl, who Grace had been so careful to keep out of the sun when she was a toddler, was deeply tanned and her legs were long and thin, the all American girl. Zara. Grace smiled.

Then the girl was gone from her view, pulled protectively from her gaze by Luke. Her eyes snapped up to his face and she didn't see what she'd expected. She'd prepared herself for this day- prepared to see the anger, the disgust- even hatred- on his face, but she hadn't expected this. It was a pain that she could tell he kept well masked, and if she were anyone else, she wouldn't even recognize it in his eyes.

She looked from Aurora, to the teens at the table behind her, to Joan- who'd fallen silent and was staring at the floor, having understood too late that her gesture of friendship to Grace had been a betrayal of her brother- then back to Luke.

He stared at her, still hiding Zara behind him, his lips pressed thin. "I think we need to talk," he said, pushing Zara toward Aurora.

Grace gulped as Aurora accepted Zara warmly, putting her hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. It had been hard enough to picture this woman sharing her husband's bed, but Zara was _her _daughter.

Zara was staring at her, her eyes wide with confusion and her teeth biting into her bottom lip.

She didn't recognize her.

It hit Grace like an avalanche, washing over her until she was sure there was no climbing out of the feeling, no surviving the pain. Her own daughter didn't recognize her.

Luke cleared his throat and Grace realized she hadn't responded. "Of course," she murmured, turning toward the counter, "We can go to the back room."  
.  
.

When Grace opened the door to the break room and the musty scent enveloped them, all Luke could register was his own sadness.

It struck him that as he had sat in the office of his eighteen room mansion, his own wife was working in a tiny coffeeshop and considered a break to be collapsing on a torn leather couch and watching an 18" television. While he had people to clean and cook and even fill in his date book, even if it was just a skeleton staff, Grace served coffee and mopped a floor.

It was her own fault, he reminded himself. She'd asked for it. She'd _left _him.

Grace collapsed onto the couch and gestured awkwardly to the other end.

Luke sat uncomfortably on the edge of an armchair and looked at her. "She doesn't know," he said, pointblank, "She never asked and I didn't tell her."

As she blinked slowly and accepted the hit, he wondered if he'd told her that just to hurt her.

Probably.

Grace swallowed, her throat feeling very constricted. "I won't say anything," she responded, defeated. "I won't tell her."

"You won't," Luke nodded, "Because you aren't going to talk to her. You aren't going to talk to her, or offer her a cup of coffee, or even _smile _at her after tonight. You're going to pretend you never saw her, and let her go on with her life. As far as she's concerned, you aren't her mother. She doesn't have a mother."

Grace, obviously caught off guard by his hardened tone, nodded slowly.

Luke's jaw tensed. "I promised her I'd get her something to eat and Zara's too smart to get out of it. If we don't go back out there and act like everything's normal, if you don't serve her the same way you do any other customer…" He trailed off. "After tonight, I don't want you anywhere near her. I don't want you at my Mom's house, or at my hotel, or at any of the events I'll be at. If I even _see _you near her, I'll file a restraining order."

"Luke…"

Luke shook his head, surprised by his own strength. "There's nothing you can say, Grace, that will make everything that's happened change," he said tiredly, standing up. "Just don't even try. I don't want to hear it, and frankly, you don't deserve it. There's no reason you can give me that will make anything okay. So just… don't." He turned quickly and walked out of the room, leaving Grace to gather herself alone.  
.  
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* * *

And it's a strange condition / A day in prison / It's got me out of my head / And I don't know what I came for

* * *

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	4. Blending

Title: Wings of Crimson

Author: Summer Indian Summer

Date Published: 09.12.2004

Rating: PG-13, for now

Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk's soul is darker than it was at fifteen. Her life has spiraled out of control, and she's lost all that's important to her. Her daughter, her boyfriend, her father. She's been looking for comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the man she can't forget comes back?

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "Joan of Arcadia."

Author's Note: Thanks to Joan for betaing this at the last moment.  
..

__

Dignity and love do not blend well, nor do they continue long together.

-Ovid

.  
.  
The room's dimly lit and there's soft strains of music and a subtle grape scent in the air when Grace enters her apartment. All the signs of romance are there, but the feeling has evaporated in the past half hour.

She goes through the motions, though, wrapping her arms around Gavin's back and breathing in his musky scent, a subtle mixture of cologne and Irish Spring. She drops her head to rest against his chest and his hands tighten around her back as he pulls her closer, dropping kisses on the crown of her head.

"Long day?" he murmurs, bringing a hand to her cheek. She doesn't answer as he pulls her face up to look at him, and he sighs. "It's over now," he whispers, kissing her gently on the forehead.

She nods as his lips graze her cheek, still unable to speak. His mouth finds hers and she sighs, partly because it feels good, partly because it's easier to give in than answer him, mostly because it's expected.

"Don't think about it," he says as he trails kisses along her jaw line, and Grace tilts her head as his lips find her neck. He sucks gently, and Grace moans, wishing she could stop her thoughts and just revel in the feeling.

But it doesn't happen. His lips are on hers again, and she kisses him back mechanically, her hands trailing up and down his arms.

"What is it?" he asks between kisses, his eyes searching hers.

__

'I was just reunited with my daughter only to be told I can't be part of her life. Luke hates me. Zara doesn't know who I am. Joan pretends she doesn't.'

She shakes her head. "Nothing," she murmurs, snaking her arms around the back of his head and pulling him down, letting her actions drown out her words.

She isn't surprised that he's already pushing her toward the bedroom; Gavin's never been one for romance and niceties. She's walking backwards, her feet matching him step for step even as her mind drifts further away.

"We'll make those thoughts disappear," he says as her back's leaning against the door. She can feel his arm against her side, his hand wrapped around the doorknob. "Don't worry about anything, Grace. Everything's okay, everything's alright." He gets the door open and pulls back just enough to look into her eyes, just enough to offer her a small smile. "You're perfect," he says, and his lips are back on hers as he pushes her into the room.

And even as he undresses her, her mind's still on her conversation with Luke.

__

'There's no reason you can give me that will make anything okay.'

Nothing's been okay for a really long time now, though, and Grace doesn't even know where to start to change that.  
.  
.  
.

Contrary to popular belief, Aurora's not stupid. She doesn't know as much about science and math as Luke, and she's never claimed to understand his lectures, but that doesn't mean she doesn't understand _him._

Midnight's come and gone, and the alarm clock on the nightstand glows red, the numbers 12:54 projected onto the ceiling.

Aurora's very intuitive. She's always picked up on signs before, and she doesn't miss any tonight.

Luke's always been one for pillow talk, so when he flipped onto his side after they made love earlier, without so much as an _'I love you,'_ Aurora took note.

She'd pretended not to, of course, because learning the truth would've been too painful. So instead, she'd pulled the sheets over her chest and settled into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut and pretending to be asleep.

Over her even breaths, she'd heard Luke shift and when she heard his muffled cries she knew he thought she was asleep. He'd gone on that way for almost ten minutes, crying into his pillow, before he'd calmed down enough to fall asleep.

Sleep was when you were at your most vulnerable, they say. Aurora couldn't disagree more. You were at your most vulnerable when the man you loved was asleep, and you lie awake next to him. It was when right as you thought sleep would come, and you heard him utter her name in his sleep, and suddenly you didn't feel tired at all.

You just felt sick.  
.  
.  
.

Every morning for the past nine years, Luke had woken up at 5:30. It had been a necessity when Zara was born, simply because that was the time Grace would finally be able to fall asleep. And as Zara grew up, it had become habit. By the time she was four, and Grace had already left, Luke would get up and prepare himself a cup of coffee, and just sit at Zara's bedside and watch her sleep.

Zara looked so much like her it pained him sometimes. Sometimes- when there was that mischievous glint in her eyes, or when the corner of her lips curved into that half smile, or when she pouted- it was like he was looking at Grace.

"Daddy?"

Luke jumped at Zara's voice, surprised she was awake. He set his coffee down on the table and crossed the room to her bed. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry, Zara."

Zara smiled, scooting over to make room for him. "It's okay."

Luke sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her tiny shoulders. "It's early. You should go back to bed. I'll wake you in a few hours."

Zara looked at him, her eyes big and cobalt blue. "What were you thinking, Daddy? When you were looking at me?"

Luke froze, looking down at his little girl. He knew Zara was a human lie detector, and there was no sense... "I was thinking of how much you remind me of your mother," he said slowly, honestly.

Zara shifted a little, setting into Luke's side. "Tell me about her, Daddy."  
.  
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Waking up with Grace Polk in his arms was unsettling to Gavin, even after four years. It was rare for him to stay the night; usually he'd slip out sometime in the early morning, once Grace had fallen asleep.

But there were those rare mornings when he'd awaken to Grace's warm breath against his chest, her head resting in the crook of his neck. Like today.

"Grace," he whispered, just loudly enough to jar her from sleep.

"Arghermengurm," she muttered unintelligibly, nuzzling her face against his chest.

Gavin sighed and pulled back. "Come on."

"I'd rather stay in bed all day," she murmured sleepily, pulling back anyway.

Gavin raised an eyebrow, taking in her naked form. "I can't picture you doing that."

"You didn't have the kind of night I did last night," Grace returned, her eyes suddenly guarded.

Gavin blinked. "Ouch."

"No," Grace sighed. "Not that. Before I came home."

"Oh," Gavin smiled. His confidence returning, he reached over to softly stroke her hip. "That bad?"

Grace nodded, glancing down at his hand. "I ran into Luke."

"Well, that's a mood killer," he muttered, his hand stopping in its ministrations.

"Zara was with him. And Aurora and Joan."

Gavin frowned. "What happened?"

Grace shook her head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." She stood up suddenly. "I'm going to take a shower."

Gavin nodded, his eyes following her as she disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.  
.  
.  
.

Just last night, he'd been throwing this in Grace's face. Zara had never asked about her. Zara had never cared.

Luke saw the irony. Less than twenty-four hours later, his daughter was asking about her mother.

He cleared his throat, tightening his grip on Zara. "Your mother was different than all the other girls I knew," he started slowly, unsure of what he was going to say. "She wasn't a girly-girl, like Aunty Joan and Aurora. She wore a leather jacket and the only makeup she ever would've worn was war paint."

Zara shifted against him, cuddling further into his side. He adjusted his arm before continuing. "But she was beautiful. Almost as pretty as you. She had blonde hair, but not like yours. Hers was straight and she wore it down. I don't think I ever saw her do anything with it."

"She never put it in a ponytail?" Zara interrupted, her voice sleepy.

Luke shook his head. "Nope. She wore it shorter than that, anyway. And her eyes. Her eyes were this beautiful gray, with flecks of green and blue."

"She sounds pretty."

"She was. But her personality was different, too. When she saw something wrong, she tried to fix it."

"Like a broken lamp?"

Luke smiled. "Yeah, like that. Or like a problem in society. She chained herself to a tree for three days once, when Arcadia was going to cut down a piece of the forest to build a mall."

"Did they do it?"

"Nope. Your mom stopped them. She had this charisma, this charm. People noticed her. People did what she asked. They listened to her."

Zara nodded, resting her head in the crook of Luke's arm. She didn't say anything for a moment, and Luke was starting to wonder if she'd fallen back to sleep when she asked quietly, "Did you love her, Daddy?"

Luke's heart constricted painfully. "Yeah, I did."

"Did she love you?"

__

_'I don't know. I thought she did. I thought she loved me and she was happy, but-'_ Luke sighed, running his free hand through Zara's hair. "Yeah, she did."

"What about now? Do you love her now?" Zara asked.

Luke didn't answer as Zara's body went limp with sleep. He sighed, glancing down at his sleeping daughter, her angelic features, the likenesses to his wife. "Yeah," he said softly, kissing Zara's forehead, "I do."  
.  
.  
.

Grace stole a glance at the clock as she poured maple syrup over a plate of French toast and heaved a sigh of relief. They'd stop serving breakfast in less than half an hour.

"Life never turns out the way you'd like it to, huh?"

Grace froze at the voice, setting the plate down and turning slowly toward the speaker. "Joan," she stated, not meeting the girl's gaze. "Why are you here?"

Joan leaned against the counter in silence until Grace met her gaze. "To talk," she said simply, offering Grace a shrug, "Can you take a few minutes off?"

Grace looked around nervously, her eyes settling on Holly. "Uh, okay...Yeah, sure."

"Good," Joan nodded.

Grace sighed as she walked around the counter, trailing behind Joan as the latter found a table. "What do you want to talk about?"

Joan settled down into a seat. "Can we skip the awkward part? You know what I want to talk about. Last night and my brother."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "I don't know if we should-"

"Listen Grace," Joan interrupted quickly, leaning forward, "You hurt him. And even though you were like my best friend, it still sucks. He's my brother. But the thing is, that was like, five years ago, right? So just put the past in the past. I'm sure Luke will come around."

Grace shook her head. "I don't think so, Joan."

Joan ran a hand through her hair in a gesture of frustration and sighed. "He's still hurt, Grace. He still doesn't get what happened. None of us do."

"I didn't... I wasn't..." Grace sighed. "I don't know why, Joan. If I did, it wouldn't be like this."

Joan nodded. "I know. But just look at it from Luke's point of view, okay? How would you feel if you were in his shoes?"

Grace treated that as a rhetorical question. "What do you expect me to do?"

A small smile tugged on the corner of Joan's lips, making Grace worry. "You're going to come back to the hotel with me and talk to Luke. Aurora's out shopping, so..."

Grace shook her head. "No, Luke told me not to go near-"

"Luke's said a lot of things lately," Joan shrugged. "I know what's best for my brother, and I know what's best for my niece. It isn't Aurora."

"I don't know..."

"I do."  
.  
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	5. Full Circle

Title: Wings of Crimson

Author: Summer Indian Summer

Date Published: 10.18.2004

Rating: PG-13, for now

Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk's soul is darker than it was at fifteen. Her life has spiraled out of control, and she's lost all that's important to her. Her daughter, her boyfriend, her father. She's been looking for comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the man she can't forget comes back?

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "Joan of Arcadia."

Author's Note: The first part's a flashback

**__**

**_----------------------------  
_**_.  
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._**_  
_**

**_November 3, 2007:_**

_It sounded corny even as his brain processed the thought, but Luke really could see his future in Grace's eyes. Their gray blue was shining with promise, and Luke could see his thoughts reflected in them._

_They were always on the same page. They had some strange emotional connection that let them know what the other was doing at any moment. Perhaps this was how he'd known when Grace had gone into labor, even though she hadn't called him._

_They'd woken up together this morning, and Luke couldn't remember ever feeling so satisfied. It occurred to him, in that moment, that if he were to die he wouldn't mind at all. He'd already reached the peak of his life; he had it all- a beautiful girlfriend, a beautiful daughter, and a career blossoming with possibility._

_"I love you," Luke murmured quietly, kissing Grace lightly on the lips. "I never want to get out of bed again."_

_A small smile tugged at Grace's lips and she rolled her eyes. "You always say that. And then Zara starts crying and-"_

_He leaned in to kiss her again. "Marry me," he whispered. He regretted the words the instant they were out, his brain reeling from the unexpected proposal. Grace would never- she was too independent. It had taken months for him to just get her to move in with him, and even then-_

_Grace's eyes widened and she turned her cheek. "What did you say?" she asked as his lips grazed her cheek._

_He pulled back, looking at her seriously. It was too late to take it back now. "Marry me," he repeated softly._

_Grace was quiet for a moment, and as Luke looked at her, he knew she was studying him the same way he'd just been studying her, reading her future in his eyes. "Okay," she murmured, kissing him lightly._

_Luke smiled. So it was settled. They'd-  
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.  
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_

****

September 8, 2013:

"Luke! _Luke!_ Earth to Girardi."

Luke snapped his head back to look at Colin, his PR Consultant. "Sorry, I was... thinking. What's going on?"

Colin sighed. "Oy! I should've known better than to be in charge of your PR. Smart guys think too much." Colin laughed. "Seriously, though, Luke, we're going to be a few minutes late. Which generally wouldn't be a big deal, except..."

Luke nodded. "We're holding the mayor up. Okay. What should I say?"

Colin smirked. "Not that smart."

"That's _your_ job," Luke chided good-naturedly.

"And don't forget it. I don't want to come off the pay roll." Colin tilted his head back. "Call him. Now. Tell him... you're running late because the traffic's so horrible in the center that it's put you about ten minutes behind," he snickered.

"How's that going to help? It's just going to piss him off. I'm insulting Arcadia-"

"Yes," Colin nodded, "But he won't mention it to the media, because _he's_ responsible for the construction work in the center. And the media's the true evil, not some bludging bastard who sits behind a desk And the mayor's a shingle short on the roof of life, anyway."

Luke frowned. "Sometimes I wonder why I hired you."

"Because you know no one's better at this job than me."

.  
.  
.  
Grace watched as familiar scenery whizzed by, utterly confused. Joan had shown up at _Java Script _with her mother's car twenty minutes earlier, insisting Grace come for a ride. Since Holly had answered in the affirmative for her, Grace had had no choice but to go along, but she was really starting to regret it.

"Seriously, Joan, where are we going? I have to be back at work in an hour..."

Joan just shrugged. "We'll be there in a few minutes. Just wait."

"You can't even give me an address or something, or tell me what _part_ of Arcadia it's in?"

Joan shook her head. "Nah. I'm not sure, really. Well, this part of Arcadia, but I'm not sure what the street's called. Yet."

"Real comforting."

"I'm not kidnapping you or anything. It's for your own good. Calm down."

"So what are you doing? Did _God _tell you to abduct me?" Grace laughed.

Joan held up a hand. "_One night!_ One night of random drunk rambling, and you're never going to let me live it down."

"Joan, you told us you talked to God and that he sent you on missions, but he looked like a different person every time. Oh, and that once he appeared to you as a talking dog." Grace raised an eyebrow. "You gave us a hell of a lot of ammunition if you didn't want us to use it against you. You were _asking_ for it."

"I-" Joan slammed her hands down on the steering wheel, eliciting a long beep of the horn. "Damnit!"

Grace laughed despite herself. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive? It seems you've forgotten how."

"You don't know where we're going." Joan cast a glance over her shoulder to look at a house she'd passed. "Hey, didn't Adam used to live there? When he was in college?"

"Yes... Can you look at the road? Please?" Grace grabbed the wheel as the car started to swerve into oncoming traffic.

"How is Adam?" Joan asked, turning back to the road in front of her.

Grace shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't talked that much lately. Last I checked his wife was having a baby, though."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

"Makes me feel old."

"I'd say that, except I had one at 17..." Grace trailed off as Joan pulled off the main road, and Grace realized where they were going. "Oh, damnit, Joan. No!"

.  
.  
.  
"Is there anything I should know before we continue with the publicity game?" Colin asked nervously as they approached their destination. "What should I know about the ex?"

"Grace?"

Colin nodded. "Yeah, her."

"She's... an ex. Zara's mom."

"Does Zara know?"

"Zara knows her mother is named Grace, but she doesn't know she's _the_ Grace."

"And what's Aurora think of all this? We have to keep the Queen Bee happy..."

"She's okay with it, I think. She doesn't like it, but she accepts it. I mean, she's going to have to, right?"

Colin raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. But I can't picture Aurora giving in that easily. She's definitely a princess, Luke."

"Whatever." Luke glanced anxiously out the window and swore under his breath. "There's cameras!"

Colin laughed. "What did you expect? They're renaming a bloody street after you. They're gonna want to capture the moment." He paused, looking out the window himself as they pulled to a stop. "Quickly. More about Grace. Is she going to be here?"

"Uh, I told her to stay away. But she's never listened to anyone, so... What do you want to know? Uh, I was sixteen. She was seventeen when Zara was born. We moved to California in 2007 and got married pretty much right after."

"Married?" Colin hissed. "How the hell did you leave _that_ out of what you'd told me about her?"

Luke shrugged. "Didn't seem important?"

"You're as thick as your wallet."

Luke was quiet as the chauffeur opened the limousine's back door and he prepared himself for the camera flashes. "You aren't going to like this," he muttered as he scooted over to the door.

"Tell me."

"We never got divorced," he said as he pushed himself from the car and offered himself as a sacrifice to the hungry newsman.

Colin followed closely, his lips set in a thin line. "Remind me to kill you when this is over," he hissed, scanning the crowd.

.  
.  
.  
"They had to pick _this_ street," Grace complained moodily as she stood on the outskirts of the crowd with Joan.

Joan frowned. "What's wrong with it?"

"This is where we used to meet up after school," Grace explained, but her words were lost as the crowd turned wild, cheering and shouting as a limousine pulled to a stop.

"That's Luke," Joan said needlessly, standing on her tiptoes to get a better view. "And Colin, I think."

"Who's Colin?"

"Luke's PR guy. He's ridiculously hot."

"Please tell me you don't hit on the guy who makes a living off of sucking up to your brother."

Joan rolled her eyes. "I don't. I have a boyfriend. And we're very happy together."

"Uh-huh." Any further goading was cut short by a glimpse of familiar blonde hair through the crowd. "Wow," Grace muttered as she saw a group of men pushing Luke through the crowd.

Joan nodded, her eyes on the dark-haired man standing next to Luke. "I told you. Colin's hot."

Grace just nodded as she realized Luke was walking straight toward her. Frowning, she glanced around, and noticed Joan had positioned them right next to a veiled street sign. "_Joan_," she hissed, looking frantically for somewhere to escape to.

.  
.  
.  
He'd expected to have to fight his way through a crowd of hanger-oners, bur he certainly hadn't expected to see _her_ standing right next to the sign. "Grace, Grace, Grace, Grace," he alerted Colin anxiously, looking anywhere but at her.

Colin smiled tightly, muttering "Deal with it" out of the corner of his mouth.

Luke mirrored the smile as the mayor and Gavin Price met up with him, each holding a microphone.

The Mayor laid a hand warmly on Luke's shoulder, turning to the crowd. "Arcadia," he said into the microphone, "I'd like to introduce to you a good friend of mine, Mr. Lucas Girardi." Luke raised an eyebrow. It must've been an election year, but he was a bit slighted the mayor had made an incorrect assumption about his name. "We were blessed to have him in our population for his teenage years, and now Mr. Girardi has returned to Arcadia a successful young man, ready for the honor of being one of Arcadia's heroes. "Arcadia, this boy doesn't just portray the dream of Arcadia. He is the dream! And now, let me present to you the man who shaped Mr. Girardi into the man he is today through the fine institution of Arcadia High. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you Mr. Gavin Price!"

Mr. Price stood there awkwardly as the crowd cheered, his gaze flickering from Luke to Grace and back. "Luke was fifteen when he came to my school. And contrary to what the mayor has said, he was one of the few students at Arcadia High whom I didn't need to shape. You see, Luke was already the man he is today, even when he was fifteen. Luke stood out not just academically, but also as a leader of the school and a friend to all. Those of you familiar with the man behind the name will know that Luke has taken on great responsibilities since he was just sixteen. I'm sure we haven't seen the last of Luke, and I'm sure he'll continue to influence the world we live in. Now, I think we should turn the mic over to Luke himself, don't you all?"

Luke's panicked expression seemed to go unnoticed as the crowd cheered and Mr. Price handed him the microphone. "Um, wow," Luke said nervously, "I don't usually have to make public speeches, because outside of Arcadia I don't think many people know who I am. But, uh, I guess I can try." He glanced around nervously, his eyes lighting on Grace.

She stood there calmly, staring up at him with empty eyes, and Luke had to wonder if she was even listening to what was saying. Did she care at all?

"Uh... Arcadia's given me a lot to be thankful for. Not just my family, but my high school... friends. They've all been there for me in some way or another, whether physically or just in my mind. I've been fortunate to meet many people who challenged me... some more than others. I remember one time when I was doing a physics lab. I started to copy down a measurement, and my lab partner told me I could go one place further. Those words stuck with me. Everyone can always go one step further than they think, give that much more detail to an otherwise good experiment." Luke frowned, glancing at Colin, who nodded. "Uh, I think I've blathered on enough, and I'm pretty sure all you guys want is for me to rip that sheet off the sign, right?"

The crowd answered with an excited cheer.

Luke gulped, aware Grace was leaning against the sign. He walked over slowly, trying to keep his nervousness from showing as photographers snapped away. He was at her side, suddenly, and she didn't even attempt to move. She just stood there, pressed against the sign. It infuriated Luke, and he reached above her to pull down the sign, his side brushing against her as he leaned in. He pulled angrily and the sheet tore down.

Luke Girardi Circle. He couldn't help but feel there was a double meaning in there somewhere. Because with Grace this close to him, he could almost fool himself into thinking he'd come full circle. Almost.  
.  
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	6. Out of My Head

Title: Wings of Crimson

Author: Summer Indian Summer

Date Published: 11.27.2004

Rating: PG-13, for now

Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk's soul is darker than it was at fifteen. Her life has spiraled out of control, and she's lost all that's important to her. Her daughter, her boyfriend, her father. She's been looking for comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the man she can't forget comes back?

Legal Stuff: Um, I'm not a lawyer, so I can't be 100 percentsure about the grounds surrounding divorce/custody and TROs. But if anyone could tell me if they'd be following Maryland or California statutes, I'd love you forever.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "Joan of Arcadia." The title's from Pete Yorn's "Strange Condition." I do not make a profit off of this in any way (whether it be monetary or emotionally, in reviews or whatever) so please don't sue.

Dedication: Thanks to Sarah for putting up with my confusing questions.

Distribution: Just here and harmonic-resonance (dot) net. Anywhere else, please ask first.  
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.

No one had spoken in over ten minutes. Grace fiddled with the hem of her shirt nervously, her eyes darting to the door at every noise. "That wasn't a good idea," she said finally, her tone oddly resigned.

Joan opened her eyes to gaze at Grace from her resting place against the wall. "Someone needed to do something."

Grace shook her head. "It shouldn't have been... public. Not like that."

"Luke needs to wake up." Joan sighed, pulling her legs closer to her body until she was cross-legged. "Look, Grace. You may have done some... you made some mistakes in your past, right? But _everyone_ does. And that doesn't mean you aren't Zara's mother."

"Maybe biologically, but maybe Luke's right. I don't deserve-"

"You don't," Joan shook her head. "But Zara deserves to know her mom. And Luke... he's just angry. He thinks he's doing what's best for her, but he can't see past his hatred for you."

Grace couldn't prevent her wince. "This isn't a good idea."

"My ideas are always good," Joan responded quickly, turning her head to glance at her alarm clock. "Look. I told Luke to come to my room at five if he wants to talk to you. It's ten minutes of now."

Grace followed Joan's gaze to the clock. "I don't know. Maybe I should just leave. It's not fair to-"

Grace trailed off and Joan reached over to touch her shoulder. "Grace, you aren't a teenager anymore. Neither is Luke. I don't care how screwed up your relationship with him is; you have a _daughter_ to worry about."

Grace opened her mouth to protest but stopped as she realized Joan was right. "Then at least let me handle this."

"I am."

"Alone."

Joan paused as she studied Grace, but after a moment nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll go hang out in the bar. I'll come back in about an hour, to make sure you're both still alive."  
.  
.  
.

Colin drummed his fingers anxiously against the car door as they pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. "So are you going to tell me what happened out there?" he asked testily, looking over at Luke.

Luke shrugged. "There's nothing to say, Colin."

"Nothing to say, my arse. You may have held yourself together through the ceremony, Luke, but the way you acted afterward! You're asking for rumors!"

Luke sighed. "What was I supposed to do? Pretend I didn't see her?"

"That would've been a start."

"Colin," Luke groaned, "You aren't mad, are you?"

"As a cut snake!" Colin broke off as the driver came around to open their door. Once both men had stepped out of the car, he muttered, "You shouldn't have let her get to you."

"That's easy for you to say," Luke said as he pushed his way past the crowd of media that had begun to gather at the hotel entrance.

A bellboy opened the doors and Colin half-pushed Luke through before continuing. "Okay, then tell me this. How's Queen Bee going to react?"

"She'll be fine. Aurora's secure in our relationship. And will you stop calling her that?"

"She's secure in your relationship? Than why'd she chuck a tanty when your sister _mentioned_ Grace?"

"That has more to do with the fact that it was Joan who said it and not the topic, and you know that. Aurora and Joan don't get along."

"If you believe that..."

Luke chose to ignore that, instead focusing on a more pressing issue. "Joan told me that she was bringing Grace back to the hotel."

Colin raised an eyebrow. "I'm manager of PR, not your love doctor."  
.  
.  
.

Being in a room alone with Grace Polk had always unnerved Luke, even when they were together. She was so intense about everything that Luke was never sure how to act.

He was the first to speak, though, and it didn't really surprise him. "I thought I told you not to come near me."

Grace frowned. "Technically, you said you didn't want me near _her._"

Unfazed, Luke responded, "I told you not to come to any of my events."

"I don't answer to you. I never have."

"Believe me, I'm aware," Luke retorted, his voice a little sharper than he'd meant for it to be.

Grace blinked, her only response to the comment. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"What did you expect?" Luke asked, his gaze burning into her. "Did you think you could just walk back into her life after you left, pick up where you left off?"

Grace averted her eyes. "No."

"Well, at least something's changed. But you'll never change enough, Grace. Not to deserve her."

"I was young. I needed a vacation. I never meant for it to be permanent," she sighed.

"God dammit, Grace! When are you going to learn? The world doesn't _give_ breaks! I would've loved a break, but I had a daughter to raise."

Grace flinched. "I know that. Now."

"You're five and a half years too late."  
.  
.  
.

Colin knocked back the last of his third kamikaze and glanced down the bar at Joan.  
What do you 'spose they're doing now?" he asked, his words blending together slightly.

Joan raised an eyebrow. "I can't tell if that's the accent or the drinking." She frowned. "And how are _you_ drinking that stuff? It burns."

"I'm an Aussie."

"I've tried Foster's. It's not that strong."

"Foster's?" Colin looked at her blankly.

"You know," Joan shrugged. "Australian for beer?"

Colin stared at her.

"What?" Joan asked defensively as he started chuckling.

Colin shook his head. "Most Aussies don't really drink Fosters." His gaze flickered to his watch and he sobered immediately. "What do you think Luke and Grace are up to now? If my client ends up dead..."

Joan sighed, her cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. "Probably still yelling. That or having sex."

"You think?" Colin frowned. "He seemed pretty mad..."

"It's Luke. He's always been a pushover, at least when it comes to Grace."

Colin nodded. "Things change."

Joan rolled her eyes. "You sound like my boyfriend."

Colin cocked his head at her. "And how is Mr. Bennett doing?"

"He's... okay. I guess. I haven't talked to him since we landed."

"Up shit creek?"

Joan raised an eyebrow. "Do you even _speak_ English?"

Colin mirrored her expression. "Something wrong?"

"Everything's just dandy," Joan spat out, rolling her eyes. "Why are you talking to me?"

"It's that or go face them," Colin murmured, gesturing above them.

Joan blinked. "Do you mean God?"

"No." Colin scrunched up his nose. "Although that would probably be better than facing your brother right now."

"Oh," Joan blushed.

"So you're religious. That why you're not drinking?"

"I'm not relig-" Joan broke off, shaking her head. "At least not in _that_ sense. And I'm not drinking because I don't trust you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Colin laughed.  
.  
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Grace had stopped pretending to be strong years ago. It wasn't worth the effort it took. Fighting with Luke had always been one of the most draining things she'd experienced, both physically and emotionally. She glanced over at him and sighed, collapsing onto Joan's bed.

"I can't believe Joan thought this would be a good idea," Luke muttered, his eyes following Grace. "Usually _she's_ not even that stupid."

"Thinking things out has never been one of her strengths," Grace pointed out, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Will you quit looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I murdered your first-" Grace froze and glanced away. "Just quit it."

Luke sighed, cautiously approaching the bed. He sat down slowly on the corner, careful not to touch Grace. "What do you want?" he asked, sounding defeated.

Grace frowned. "What do you mean?"

"God, Grace. What will it take? Zara started asking about you, and if I have any chance of raising her here without your interference-"

"What?"

"-you can't stay here. I don't want you hurting her again. So whatever it is, just ask. Do you want money?"

"Stop." Grace shook her head forcefully, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't _want money._ I want to be part of my daughter's life."

"That's not an option. I can give you-"

"And what the hell is this about raising her _here?_ I thought you were here for a visit, not to stay. That's what the news was saying..."

Luke shrugged. "Nothing's definite, yet, but California... I can't raise her there. It's not fair to her, the way I'm constantly commuting between Stanford and Los Angeles."

"So you're going to move back here?" Grace asked, hugging her knees to her chest, suddenly vulnerable.

Luke nodded. "Maybe."

"Huh. And what's Aurora think of that?"

"I haven't told her yet." Luke frowned, made irrationally angry by her laidback response. "That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say? I'm not leaving. I don't want your money."

"I can have a TRO placed against you or something. I could have my lawyers draw it up in a minute."

"I'd like to see you try," Grace challenged, raising her eyebrows, "According to the _law_, we still have shared custody of her. You never filed."

Luke swore under his breath. He'd never thought that would be an issue. "Then I'll do that first. Shouldn't be too hard. You've been gone for the past five years."

"Not by choice."

"You made that choice the second you walked out the door," Luke retorted, his voice filled with frustration.

Grace recoiled at the comment and shook her head. "I never _chose_ to walk out on you. I always meant to come back after a few days. I just- I needed a break."

Luke's jaw tensed as he looked at her. He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his words surprised both of them.

"Why'd you do it, Grace? We got married, and you acted like everything was fine. Then I come home one day and you're just gone. You didn't even leave a note. Why'd you walk out on us?"  
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	7. Burning Bridges

Title: Wings of Crimson

Author: Summer Indian Summer

Date Published: 12.05.2004

Rating: PG-13, for now

Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk's soul is darker than it was at fifteen. Her life has spiraled out of control, and she's lost all that's important to her. Her daughter, her boyfriend, her father. She's been looking for comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the man she can't forget comes back?

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "Joan of Arcadia." I do not make a profit off of this in any way (whether it be monetary or emotionally, in reviews or whatever) so please don't sue.

Distribution: Just here and harmonic-resonance (dot) net. Which, by the way, gets a 10-24 hour update previous to this site, so it's worth checking out. Anywhere else, please ask first.

Author's Notes: The whole chapter's a flashback. Timeline has been slightly changed..  
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March 24, 2008

"And he ripped a page out of his notebook! It probably set us back about six months, which Coolidge is going to love. The project's already over its maximum estimate, and I'm worried that Coolidge is going to have it discontinued..."

Grace listened idly as Ronnie Whitmore ranted to her about the lab's latest setback, trying not to roll her eyes. Ronnie was always overdramatic. Her gaze wandered to her watch as he continued, silently counting the moments until Luke was supposed to return home.

"Grace?"

Grace snapped her head up at Ronnie's questioning tone and offered him a tight smile. "Huh?"

Ronnie raised an eyebrow. "You weren't even listening to me. What's going on?"

Grace shrugged. "Nothing. I'm just tired."

Ronnie nodded. "How's the baby been?"

"A nightmare," Grace sighed, her gaze falling to her watch again. "She's sleeping now, but earlier she wouldn't go down. I'd put her to bed and she'd take off her clothes and start screaming. Then I'd pick her up and she'd want food. When I gave her food, she pushed it onto the floor."

Ronnie's laugh died quickly as he noticed Grace's glare. "So, she's, uh, how old? Isn't she supposed to act like that?"

"Twenty-two months. And no. No kid's supposed to act like a terrorist."

"A terrorist?" Ronnie snorted. "You're intense."

"Yeah, well-" Grace paused as the phone rang, groaning. "No..."

She jumped up, but it was too late. Zara had already begun to scream. Ronnie frowned. "I'll get her if you wanna..." he trailed off, gesturing to the phone.

Grace nodded. "Yeah," she said, already grabbing the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Grace. It's me."

Luke. His tone sounded...

Grace's stomach dropped. "Hey. What time will you be home?" she asked casually as she considered all the ways she could kill him later.

"Uh... that's what I was calling about. Me and Mac just had a breakthrough, so... I don't know. I just wanted to tell you I'm not gonna be home for dinner... I'll call you later."

The crying from the next room subsided and Grace sighed. "Fine. Tell Mac I said hi."

"Okay... how's Zara feeling?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "She has a little cold, Luke. She's fine."

There was an uncomfortable silence before Luke spoke again. "I love you. Bye Grace."

"I love you, too. Bye.".

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"You guys are like, so old-married-couple-ish," Mackenzie 'Mac' Coolidge said, swinging her legs back and forth over the side of a table.

"We are married," Luke responded, shaking his head at his lab partner. "You shouldn't be sitting up there."

"I swear you act like you're forty."

"Well, it makes up for you. You act like you're fourteen," Luke muttered, picking up a test tube marked 'Gl-2.'

Mac sighed, jumping down to the floor. "Well, at least I act closer to my age. You're what? Eighteen?"

"Nineteen."

"Huh." Mac glanced at the test tube.

"What's that supposed to mean? You're only two years older than me."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Nepotism, Luke. My father's the department head. I'm normal. You're a freak of nature."

"Gee, thanks."

Mac took the test tube from him. "Have you tried the sodium iodide test?"

"Yeah, nothing. None of the tests have given me much to work with."

"Do you think...?" Mackenzie trailed off,

"The early experiments with zinc acetate had interesting results. And then when you dropped that juniper stuff-"

Mac winced. "Sorry about that."

"No," Luke shook his head. "Don't be. When you dropped it, it killed a lot of the bacteria culture."

"...So what are you thinking?"

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"Grace, I don't get why you're still complaining. She's an angel," Luke whined later that night as he ate.

Grace shook her head. "You're not here all day. She's like a toy to you, Luke. Not a daughter. You play with her, not raise her."

Luke set down his fork. "She's not a toy to me, Grace. You know that. She's my daughter."

"You're never home," Grace accused.

"I know." Luke frowned. "I want to be home more, Grace. It's just things at the lab right now- I can't not be there. I feel like we're on the edge of something, Grace."

Grace took a sip of her coffee and sighed. "You said that last month."

"And last month we discovered Galvinose. We're making huge strides, Grace- huge."

"Look, I'm not trying to be a drama queen, and I'm not some needy housewife," Grace sighed. "You missed Zara's first sentence and she walked up the library stairs the other day by herself."

Luke's eyes grew sad. "I know. I wanted to be there, Grace. But I just can't get away from the lab right now-"

"Then how the hell does Ronnie find the time? Or Mike or Ryan? You and Mac are always there."

"Dr. Coolidge expects more from us, and if I'm not... I'm just trying to make sure we're secure."

Grace sighed. "I know. I just... I'm just tense lately, I guess."

Luke smiled, scooting his chair closer to her. "Just give me a couple more months, Grace. I promise that we'll make it. By Zara's birthday, everything will be normal again."

Grace studied him for a moment before giving him a small smile, her first genuine one in days. "By Zara's birthday?"

"Yeah," Luke murmured, and placed a kiss on Grace's temple. "I'll go check on her. Take a nice bath, relax."

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Grace woke up the next morning to Zara crying and the telephone ringing. Grace rolled over and reached out, trying to grab the phone on her nightstand.

She couldn't reach.

With a groan, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and snatched up the phone. "What?" she accosted, voice still groggy with sleep.

"I didn't mean to wake you... it's eleven. Are you okay?" Luke's concerned voice responded.

Grace sighed. "Uh, I'm okay. Just a little nauseous."

"I could come home in a little bit, if you need me. If you want to-"

Grace shook her head even though he couldn't see her. "No, I'll be fine. I'm just overtired."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... look, Zara's crying. I have to go get her. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay... Oh, wait! I called to tell you that we just... Grace, everything's paying off, I think. I think I can carry out on that promise _before_ Zara's birthday."

"What..." Grace trailed off as Zara's crying turned to screaming. "Can you tell me later? I've really got to go get her."

"Yeah, sure. Love you."

"Mmmhmm. Love you, too." Grace set the phone back in its cradle and darted into Zara's room.

Zara was standing in her crib, chubby hands reaching up toward Grace. She fell silent as Grace walked into the room, watching her mother with playful eyes. "I eat?" she babbled as Grace picked her up, "I eat, Mommy?"

Grace sighed, looking down at her daughter. "Yeah. Mommy has to eat, too."

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"Hey, guys, I'm taking off for the day. Got me a big lunch date," Ronnie told Luke and Mac, shrugging off his lab coat. "Have you met Lindsay Hayden?"

Luke nodded. "Have fun."

"Oh, believe me, I will." Ronnie smirked, opening the door. "'Bye, guys. Don't screw anything up."

After the door had slammed shut Mac arched an eyebrow. "So what do you think all this means?"

"Ronnie's date? Well, I guess we can be sure he's not into Mike anymore."

Mac rolled her eyes. "About the culture."

"Huh. I'm not really sure. It depends on what your dad says about furthering funding. What do you think he'll do?"

Mac bit her bottom lip. "Your guess is as good as mine. I've only known him since I came to Stanford, remember?"

"Ech... If he approves it, if we're right about this..."

Mac's grin spread across her face as she studied Luke. "We'll be filthy rich?"

"Well yeah," Luke nodded. "Actually, I was thinking more of the advances and improvements this would mean for the medical world."

"Do you really think it could work? That Galvinose could be the substance needed to cure the common cold?"

"It's a definite possibility."

Mac scribbled something in her lab notebook before looking back up at him. "You can leave, if you want. I know you're dying to tell Grace."

Luke sighed. "Yeah, but that can wait. We should go celebrate. I'll splurge. I'll even give you a ride home after."

"Luke Girardi? Celebrating? Splurging? What's this world coming to?" Mac snickered, taking off her lab coat anyway.

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"Let me just run in and tell Grace," Luke said as he pulled to a stop in front of his house.

Mac grinned. "Yeah, go ahead. How do you think she'll take it?" she asked as she popped a French fry into her mouth.

Luke shrugged, suddenly losing a little of his enthusiasm. "I don't know. She's been kind of tense lately."

Laughing, Mac responded, "She's raising a two year old. What do you expect?"

"Nah, something's different," Luke said, shaking his head. "She's moodier. Exhausted. Not Grace-like."

"Huh."

Luke frowned. "What's that for?"

Mac blinked, the embodiment of innocence. "What are you talking about?"

"The 'huh.' That was a loaded 'huh.'"

"I didn't mean anything by it, I swear... Didn't you say Grace overslept this morning?"

"Yeah, she told me she wasn't feeling well."

"Huh."

Luke groaned, throwing his head back against his seat in frustration. "''Huh' what?"

Mac pursed her lips, thinking for a minute. "Luke... aren't you supposed to be a genius or something? Because according to my father, that's why Stanford was so gung-ho on recruiting you. They don't house any other student-employee."

"I... What does that even mean?"

"Grace. Moodiness. Always tired. Sick... Pregnant?"

Luke's eyes widened, but he shook his head quickly. "No. She would've told me."

"When?"

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Mac's words had disturbed him, but he refused to let it get to him. Grace would've told him, and anyway, they'd been careful. Luke swiped his ID through the door's card reader and opened the door. "Grace?" he called, stepping into their apartment.

There wasn't a response. Luke frowned, glancing around the apartment. He noticed a light on in Zara's room and started heading in that direction, leaving the door slightly open.

He hadn't made it to the door when Ronnie appeared in its frame, rocking a sleeping Zara in his arms. "Shh. I just got her to sleep. She wouldn't stop crying."

Luke frowned. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to have a date with Lindsay Hayden."

"I did," Ronnie shrugged. "Grace called me and told me she couldn't get in touch with you, and needed someone to watch Zara so she could run out and get some cough medicine for her. I didn't need to pick Lindsay up 'til 2:30, so I came by."

Luke frowned, his stomach dropping. "It's past 2:30 now."

"Yeah, I know. I called Lindsay to tell her I'd be late. She was kinda pissed, so I should probably..." Ronnie trailed off, holding Zara out to Luke.

Luke intercepted Zara, his eyes still on Ronnie. "Did you try calling Grace?"

"Yeah. Her phone's off."

Luke had had nightmares about this moment. Real, genuine nightmares. "God, Ronnie. And you didn't call me? She could be laying in a ditch somewhere!"

Ronnie bit his lip. "I wasn't thinking she-" Ronnie was interrupted when as the door opened and Mac entered the apartment.

"What's going on? I thought you were just telling Grace..." Mac came to a halt, glancing from Luke to Ronnie and back again. "What's going on?"

Ronnie sighed, his gaze still on Luke. "Look, I'm not sure she got in an accident or something. After 2:00, I started to get worried and I was looking around. The suitcase you guys have had by the living room door for like, the last three months?"

Luke's eyes flew to the door in question.

"It's gone."  
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	8. Probability Theorem

Title: Wings of Crimson

Author: Indian Summer

Date Published: 02.05.2005

Rating: PG-13, for now

Summary: At twenty-five, Grace Polk's soul is darker than it was at fifteen. Her life has spiraled out of control, and she's lost all that's important to her. Her daughter, her boyfriend, her father. She's been looking for comfort in the arms of the wrong man, but what happens when the man she can't forget comes back?

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from "Joan of Arcadia." I do not make a profit off of this in any way (whether it be monetary or emotionally, in reviews or whatever) so please don't sue.  
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Suddenly the room felt far too small and the air too stale. Grace shifted uncomfortably as Luke's gaze bore into her face. "I didn't really have a reason," she murmured, her hands clenching the comforter of Joan's bed. "I didn't really think."

Luke nodded, his gaze not wavering. "That's clear."

Grace bit her lip, hesitantly bringing her gaze to his face. She was surprised by what she saw there. There was certainly anger, but even more evident was the _fear._ She frowned. "When- I- it wasn't because of you. I just couldn't deal."

Luke sighed, his eyes dark with frustration. "Couldn't deal with _what_, Grace? I need more to go on than that."

She studied him for a moment, wanting so badly to share her secret with him. She couldn't do it though. Everything would be so different, and it wasn't fair to put him through that.

He seemed to realize she wasn't going to respond and began to speak, his tone oddly light. "You know, Mac had a crazy theory for why you left."

Grace shrugged. "Mac always had crazy theories."

Ninety percent of which had turned out to be true.

Luke cleared his throat, his eyes boring into Grace's. "She thought you were pregnant."

Grace blinked slowly and shook her head. "That _is_ crazy."

"Yeah."

She couldn't tell whether his 'yeah' was a statement or a question. Gulping, she nodded. "It doesn't make sense. We already had a daughter. Why would I have run away if I were pregnant? And where would this mystery baby be now?"

Luke shrugged. "Question of the day, I guess."

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"I should go check on them," Colin stated out of the blue, setting down a shot glass.

Glancing at the clock behind the bar, Joan shook her head. "Give them fifteen more minutes. They have a lot to talk about."

"My client could be bleeding to death on a bathroom floor. Or _worse_, his ex could be bleeding to death."

Joan chuckled, grabbing Colin's shot glass and pushing it out of his reach. "I think you've had enough to drink. And comparing the importance of people's lives? Isn't that a little utilitarian for you?"

"Big word, Joan. I'm impressed. Ow!" Colin rubbed his arm where Joan had just hit him. "You're a bloody violent sheila, aren'tya?"

"That sounds like an insult."

"Naw. And t' answer your question, I'm in the public relations business. A murdered ex is a lot worse than a murdered client."

"That's sick."

"I'm not disagreeing."

"How do you sleep at night? Don't you ever feel-" Joan was cut off as Grace rushed past the bar, Luke running after her. "Well, there's your answer. They're both alive."

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"Grace! Will you slow down?" Luke called as he pushed open the lobby door, keeping a brisk pace as he tried to catch up to Grace.

He found her leaning against the hotel's brick exterior, head down as she concentrated on lighting a cigarette. "Since when do you smoke?" Luke asked, grabbing Grace's arm so she couldn't escape again.

She glanced up at him and shrugged. "I don't. Just felt like if there was any time for a cigarette..." She glanced down at Luke's hand on her arm. "Let go of me. I won't bolt. I just... needed air."

"I'm supposed to believe you aren't going to take off?" Luke asked, even as he removed his arm. His gaze bore into hers as he took the cigarette from her hand. "I asked you a question back there."

Grace shook her head. "Technically, you didn't. It was implied, sure. But you didn't ask me anything."

"Grace..."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Grace heaved a sigh. "Ask me. If you can ask me point blank, I'll tell you why I left and what happened afterwards."

Luke's jaw tensed and he opened his mouth to speak but was unable to say anything. "I- You know, I've wondered for over five years why you left, but now that I can know, I- I don't think I want to. It won't change anything."

Grace opened her eyes slowly and studied him in silence. "I was scared at first, too. For a while after I left, actually."

Luke ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Scared of what?"

Grace bit her lip. "If I tell you that, I'll have to tell you why I left."

Luke was quiet for a minute. "Tell me."

Grace bit her lip. "Can we, uh, go back to my apartment? I don't really want to be in front of a hotel for this."

Luke's stomach flipped at the suggestion and he nodded. "Yeah, sure."

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"I thought you said you could _hold _your alcohol," Joan muttered as she helped Colin into a cab.

"I can. See? Two hands, to hold two glasses." Colin snickered. "Get it?"

"Uh, yeah." Joan rolled her eyes. "I swear my brother should hire a second PR guy just to cover _your_ ass."

"I'm not drunk. I could blow in a bag and she'll be right."

"I'm going to need to invest in one of those Aussie to English dictionaries," Joan said as she climbed into the backseat with Colin, pulling the door closed behind her.

"You're coming with me? Should I be honored?"

"I'm coming with you to make sure you don't choke on your own vomit, so no. Why are you staying at a hotel across town anyway?"

Colin shrugged, lapsing into silence.

Joan studied him as he started to hum idly. She doubted he had bothered to brush his hair since the public appearance earlier that day, but it still fell almost perfectly in a tousled way. She gave herself a moment to hate him for that.

"Y'know, Luke's right."

Joan laughed. "I doubt that. About what?"

"You. Gregory. You're too good for that piss-tank. You deserve someone better"

"Like who?"

"I don't know. Just someone better. God or someone."

Joan winced. "You have no idea how creepy that is."

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"So this is your apartment," Luke said casually as they walked to Grace's door. "It's... nice."

Grace laughed. "It's big enough for me."

"I guess so."

Grace went to unlock the door but was surprised to find it open. She shrugged, pulled it all the way open, and stepped inside. "Sorry it's not what you're used to," she muttered, making her way toward her bedroom.

She stopped suddenly as she noticed her door was open. "I could've sworn I..." she trailed off, throwing it open. "Oh, lovely."

Gavin looked up from where he was standing next to the nightstand and grinned. "I left my laptop here the other night." His gaze wandered past Grace to where Luke was standing behind her, stunned. "What's he doing here?"

Grace sighed. "We're just talking."

Gavin stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay." He held up a laptop case. "I'm going to go now. I'll see you tonight."

He dropped a lingering kiss on Grace's lips and brushed past her and Luke. Grace cleared her throat. "Anyway, I wanted to show you-"

"Wait, _what?_" Luke frowned. "Give me a minute. I'm still processing the fact that my ex-wife and my high school _principal_ are living together."

Grace rolled her eyes. "He doesn't live here."

"See, Grace, I think you're somehow overlooking the big picture."

"I don't think I am." Grace shrugged. "So I was saying..."

"When'd you start dating Mr. Price?"

Grace rolled her eyes, frustrated. "I'm not _dating_ him."

"You just live together."

"No. He stays here sometimes, but we aren't... he's still married, and I'm not looking for a relationship."

Luke's eyes widened. "So he just- what- has sex with you?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Grace shrugged. "Can we move on? I didn't think you'd care who I was sleeping with anyway."

Luke laughed harshly, throwing his hands up in the air. "What? You're my _wife!_ I don't think you should be sleeping with the guy who used to tell us not to make out in the hallways of Arcadia High!"

Grace smiled sadly. "We were always only married when it was convenient for you, weren't we?"

Luke's jaw slackened. "What?"

"Never mind." Grace offered him a half smile and walked over to her bureau. Opening the top draw, she pulled out a manila envelope and spilled the contents out on her bed. She bit her lip and picked up a photograph, handing it over to Luke. "Our daughter," she murmured, gesturing to the picture.

Luke frowned. "This isn't Zara."

Grace swallowed. "I know."  
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	9. Raw

NOTES: First, I'm clearly skipping over the normal heading for a chapter, because this one's too painful for me to continue to look back on. First, I should stress I don't have much medical background, so while I THINK I got my facts right, they may not be. Second, forgive any errors in this chapter. While it was run through betas, it didn't have the second and third version edits I usually do, simply because this chapter's not supposed to feel polished. It's supposed to feel raw.

DISCLAIMER: I'm not a doctor. I don't own Joan of Arcadia or any other brand kind of thing mentioned. Don't sue me.  
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Luke reverently ran a finger along the edge of the photo, gazing at the tiny face of the little daughter he'd never known existed. "Mac was right," he murmured, smiling as he looked at the photo. "She's so beautiful. What's her name?"

Grace smiled, picking another piece of paper up off the bed. "Keona Marie."

"Keona?"

Grace nodded. "A woman I met at a clinic. She... Keona probably wouldn't have been born if it wasn't for her."

Luke finally tore his gaze from the photo of his daughter, turning startled eyes on Grace. "You would've... gotten rid of her?"

Grace sighed. "It's complicated."

"Where is she? Why didn't I know about her?"

Grace shifted uncomfortably, her eyes filled with pain. "I guess that depends on your outlook. I like to think she's happy somewhere."

Luke visibly paled and glanced down at the picture. "Is she...? I mean, she looks a bit sick here, but was she..."

Grace nodded slowly. "She lived for two months. She was a real fighter."

Luke smiled. "Like her mother," he murmured, his voice slightly choked up.

Grace shook her head. "She was a lot stronger than I'll ever be."  
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Joan drummed her fingers anxiously against Colin's nightstand as she listened to Gregory's cell phone ring for the eighth time. _Pick up, pick up._

There was a hitch in the line and a groggy voice greeted "Hello?"

Joan frowned, not recognizing the voice. "Uh, is Gregory there?"

"He's in the shower. Can I take a message?"

"I guess so. I'm Joan, Gregory's girlfriend. Would you mind telling him I called?"

"Nope."

The woman sounded so _bored._ Joan sighed. "May I ask who I'm talking to?"

A pause. "My name's Anna. I'm a... friend of Gregory's."

Joan glanced over at Colin, who was snoring away on the bed. There was something odd about the way Anna had said _friend_, and it made Joan suspicious. "Okay. Have a nice night, Anna."  
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Grace took the picture back from Luke and tucked it back in the envelope, wiping a tear from her cheek. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she patted the spot next to her, gesturing for Luke to join her.

"What did she have?" he asked softly as he sat down next to her. "Why didn't you call me? I could've helped."

Grace sighed. "She had a full Trisomy on her 18th Chromosome. It's called-"

"Edwards Syndrome."

"Yeah," Grace nodded. "Most babies don't make it full term. Keona did."

"How'd you- when'd you?" Luke sighed. "Is this why you left? Did you know?"

Grace shook her head. "I suspected I was pregnant, but I had no idea... I just wanted a few days to myself to think about things. I didn't think I wanted another kid at that point."

Luke looked hurt. "So you went to have an abortion without even letting me know? Grace, I'm- I _was-_ your husband. I had a right- I could've helped."

"Not at that point. I stayed in a hotel in Los Angeles the first night, took six pregnancy tests. They all came back positive. I wasn't ready to tell you, so I kind of wandered around. I ended up back in Arcadia and went to see a doctor."

"If I'd known..."

"I know. Anyway, the doctor confirmed I was pregnant- eight weeks, apparently. Anyway, I just felt... weird, like something was off, so I stayed around. Two weeks later, I had a blood test done. I got a call within a few days that there were some abnormal results on the triple screen test. So he scheduled an amniocentesis for a few days later. God, I was so scared before that. There was a slight risk of miscarriage, and I was almost worried something _wouldn't _be wrong and I would've put my baby in danger for no reason."

"Oh, Grace..."

"Don't. I know. Anyway, I did that though, and I found out that the odds for Trisomy 18 were 1:11, so the doctor advised me to have a CVS done. It was early May then, and I wanted to tell you, so I had my doctor get in touch with a doctor in LA. So I got on a plane, went to LA, had a chorion villous biopsy, and drove to our house. I figured no matter what happened, I'd have you and Zara, and I wouldn't have to miss Zara's birthday."

"Oh my God. I just- I didn't know- I was so mad."

Grace sighed. "It's not your fault. I should've realized that I couldn't just step back into my old life after more than a month. Besides, it wouldn't have been fair to lay that on you, with all the work you had to do and taking off and-"

"God, Grace. If I'd known- I'm sorry."

Grace smiled. "It was all worth it though. I mean, it was hard, but I wouldn't trade a single day. Anyway, I heard back that the baby did have Edwards Syndrome, and that it was 'incompatible with life.' God, I hate that phrase. I kind of wonder if I was just looking for an excuse, though. I went back to Arcadia figuring I'd just make peace with my parents and move back in with them. I went to a clinic, signed the paper work, prepared myself for the abortion."

"Keona?"

"A protestor outside the building. I realized I'd left my health insurance card in my coat pocket, and I'd left my coat in the car, so I went out to get it. The protestors kind of enveloped me, thinking I'd decided not to go through with the abortion. I was trying to explain and then Keona said to me 'Did you know that it's estimated almost thirty percent of all babies aborted due to 'health reasons' have a fairly decent shot of surviving the birth?' So I was standing next to this girl I would've been protesting _alongside_ a few years earlier, and she's telling me it's not as hopeless as it sounds. We ended up going out for lunch and talking all day."  
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He'd woken up before to a dull ache in the back of his head and nausea balled up in the pit of his stomach, but never before did he feel like his head was swimming, that the balance mechanisms in his ears had all failed at the same time, or that his stomach was carrying out all life processes at once.

Colin groaned and rolled over onto his side to find Joan sitting on his bed, looking down at him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked with a snicker. "Have a little too much to drink?"

"Not. Funny," he moaned, glancing past her at the alarm clock. "Got to get up."

"I'd like to see that happen," Joan said as she shifted on the bed.

The sudden movement made Colin more nauseous, and he jumped up and stumbled toward the bathroom.

Over his retching, he thought he could hear Joan's laughter, and for a moment, he hated her for it.

Then she was at his side, kneeling next to him as he leaned over the porcelain toilet bowl, running a hand down his back like she was from a freaking sorority, whispering calming words in a soothing tone.

He turned his head slightly to look at her. "Since when are you Susie Homemaker?" he whispered, frowning.

Joan rolled her eyes, standing back up. "Remind me not to help a friend ever again. Come on, get up, brush your teeth."

"We're friends?" Colin asked, trying to smile but finding himself too weak to do so.

Joan raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I guess so."  
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Luke sat on the edge of Grace's bed, leg muscles tensed and ready to flee. He wasn't sure _how_ he was supposed to be reacting to this. There was the part of him who felt badly that Grace had gone through everything alone, that she'd had no one to turn to. But there was also the side of him, the darker side, hidden much deeper within him, that was _pissed._ The fact that he and Grace had shared another daughter, the fact that Grace hadn't told him, the fact that she'd kept it a secret for those few months he could've _known_ her- it suddenly hit him.

For everything that he and Grace had been through together and apart, this was the first thing he would never be able to forgive her for. _This_ was the issue he wouldn't be able to let go of on his deathbed.

He glanced over at Grace, who was rapidly blinking, trying to prevent her tears from falling. Luke sighed. "How do I tell Zara?"

Grace looked up, alarmed. "You don't. At least not yet."

So now she was going to tell him how he could raise his daughter? "I think she deserves to know, Grace."

Grace was quiet for a moment, her eyes silently pleading with him.

He didn't do so much as blink.

Grace sighed, resigned. "Okay."  
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It was nearly an hour later when Colin felt well enough to get himself dressed and return to the room. Now, spread across the right side of the queen-sized bed with Joan on his side, Colin cleared his throat.

"You're moody."

Joan glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow. "I spent the last hour cleaning up your vomit. I deserve to be."

"I think it's something more than that," Colin pushed, his voice light and almost sing-songy.

Joan pursed her lips and stared at him for a minute before pushing herself up with a groan. "I called Gregory while you were asleep."

"Trouble in paradise?" Colin asked, plenty aware Joan wanted to smack the grin off his face.

Joan glared. "No. At least, I don't think so."

"You don't sound all that sure."

Rolling her eyes, Joan muttered, "I'm not. Some girl- Anna- answered his phone."

"So? It's- well, what time is it here? It's that minus three there."

Joan snickered despite herself, glancing over at the clock. "So?"

"It's not exactly the middle of the night or early morning. Does he have any sisters?"

Joan frowned. "A foster sister, but it wasn't her. I've met her."

Colin whistled, letting his head fall back against the headboard. "So what are you thinking? Does Gregory have a wife and kids he's kept secret from you?"

"Don't even joke like that," Joan moaned, dropping her head into her hands. "It's not funny."

"Actually, it kind of is," Colin shrugged. "Joan Girardi, the homewrecker. Has a nice ring to it, does it not?"

Colin was greeted by a pillow to his face.  
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	10. Tender

AUTHOR'S NOTES: MUST READ. 

Okay, hopefully that got your attention. This chapter deals with more adult themes, and is pretty adult in nature. As it's a 'fade to black' issue, though, I didn't think it warrants a rating change. If you are not comfortable reading about anything of a , do not read this chapter. I'll summarize it in the next update...  
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October 3, 2005

"What are you doing after school today?"

Grace Polk turned to glance at her younger boyfriend and shrugged. "I have stuff to do. Hang out with Friedman."

Luke Girardi frowned. "I thought we talked last week about going to that movie night..."

Grace bristled at the comment. "Yeah, a week ago. Stuff... comes up in a week, you know?"

Luke pulled an AP Biology text from his locker and glanced over at Grace. "If you don't want to go out, we could just hang out at my house or something. I'd rather spend the night with you than Friedman."

"I'd hope so," Grace snickered despite herself.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Don't put that image in my head."

"There's an image? You've thought about it?" Grace wasn't sure if the conversation was amusing her or making her sick. She felt nauseous.

"Nah. I'm too preoccupied thinking about what it feels like to be with you," Luke murmured, slipping an arm behind Grace's waist and smiling. "The way you make me feel, the way you taste..."

Grace squirmed away from him. "Not in public, Luke."

"Fine. After school? Tonight?"

Grace sighed, her mind working quickly. "Give me until six, alright? You can come over at 6."  
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The world hated her; she was sure of it. Grace pushed her tray across the table and scrunched her nose at Joan. "Smells awful. I feel like I'm going to be sick."

"God, you said that about the spaghetti sauce, too. Are you going all anorexic on me?"

Grace shot Joan a surprised look. "First of all, throwing up would be _bulimic._ And no, I'm not. I think I just caught something."

"My mom says there's a bug going around," Joan offered helpfully, digging into Grace's burger.

"I don't think it's that," Grace muttered, setting her head down on the table. "I'm just tired. I had a lot of stuff to do the past couple weeks, so I'm just looking forward to catching up on sleep this weekend."

"I hear you."

Grace frowned. "Are you still fighting with Ryan?"

"_That_ is a never-ending fight. God, I hate that guy."

"Just let it go," Grace muttered, nesting her head between her arms. "He's not worth it."

"I know that, but he annoys me, you know?" Joan sighed. "Like, the other day, he tried to convince me to _not_ join rhythmic gymnastics."

"And that's a bad thing why?"

"It's just... I feel about him the same way you feel about Price. That level of hate, you know?"

"You feel like Ryan Hunter, the guy who saved Rove's life, started a camp for disadvantaged kids and made a fool out of Tori McKinnon, _and_ financially emancipated himself from his father, the face of capitalism itself, is a blemish to society and should be eradicated like any other evil?"

"He's evil! I mean it. All the good is just covering up for... something bad."

Grace snickered. "It sounds to me like you're back in second grade tattling on Ryan for pulling on your braids."

"Huh?"

"You like him, Girardi."

Joan stirred the remains of Grace's burger around on her tray, shaking her head. "That's not true. I just- - hey, where are you going?"

"Being sick," Grace responded as she ran from the cafeteria.  
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Luke, of course, was early. Grace rolled her eyes as she went to the front door, wearing loose gray sweats and an oversized 'labels are for jam jars' sweatshirt.

"Hey. Joan told me you were sick today," Luke greeted bluntly, placing a light kiss on Grace's forehead.

"I'm not going to get you sick, if that's what you're worried about. I'm just tired."

"I bought you a present," Luke responded, ignoring her remark. "It's not much, but I thought..." He shrugged, holding out a bag to her.

Grace rolled her eyes, pulling a _Che Lives_ shirt from the bag. "That it would make you more likely to get laid?"

"What?" Luke's eyes widened. "I didn't expect-"

"Thank you," Grace interrupted, kissing look lightly on the corner of the mouth. "And I'm feeling better anyway. I love the shirt, though. Do I get to keep it?"

"Mmm." Luke enveloped Grace in his arms. "I was worried about you all day. Did you know that?"

"I told you; I'm just tired," Grace grumbled, settling into Luke's arms anyway.

"If you want to rest, we don't- - I could just leave."

Grace pulled back, looking at Luke's worried face. "No, it's okay. And you make me feel better anyway." She broke off, her gaze becoming harsher. "And if you repeat that to anyone, you won't _have_ to worry about sex anymore, because a very fundamental part of your anatomy will have been cut off."

"Ow."

"Exactly," Grace murmured, kissing along Luke's jawline and tugging on his hand. "Lets go upstairs and watch a movie."  
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"Did we actually think we'd watch a movie laying on your bed together?" Luke asked between heated kisses, running his hands up and down Grace's arms.

"I didn't," Grace whispered, capturing Luke's lips with her own again. "Just wanted to get you upstairs."

"You know, just asking me to come up here and make out with you would've been..." Luke's words trailed off as he felt Grace's lips against his neck. He craned his neck to give her more room and sighed. "Enough."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm," Luke murmured, pushing Grace back into her pillow and crawling so he was half on top of her. "God, I love you," he told her as his tongue darted out beneath her ear.

Grace moaned and wrapped her legs around his. "Me too."

Luke nipped at her ear and was greeted by another whimper. "Say it."

"God, Luke," Grace breathed, her hands finding the bottom of his shirt and tugging up. "I love you."

They broke apart long enough for Luke to finish removing his shirt, and then Luke brushed his tongue over her teeth. His fingers fumbled with the fabric of her sweatshirt and she arched into him as he pulled on it, causing him to groan.

After her sweatshirt had been removed, Luke stared at Grace in silence for a moment, shaking his head. "I don't tell you you're beautiful enough," he murmured, fingers tracing the swells of her breasts. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

Grace murmured something unintelligible as her fingers worked at his fly.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation. "Condoms?"

Grace paused. "None left." When Luke tensed, she shook her head quickly. "Don't worry about it. I can't get pregnant right now, anyway."

"That's never true, Grace. There's always a chance- albeit a small one- that..." Luke's words trailed off as Grace's fingers worked their way under his waistband.

"Forget it, Luke. It's not an issue. And I want you."

Maybe it was their combined weakened resolve, or Grace's strangely confident tone. For whatever reason, though, neither let the issue stop them.  
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End file.
